


The Greatest Showmen

by Epicspacenshit



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: M/M, barlyle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 06:26:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14764352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Epicspacenshit/pseuds/Epicspacenshit
Summary: This story takes place directly after the opening of the new Circus tent and omits Charity forgiving Phineas and his retirement from the show.Phineas begins his life as a single man, focused entirely on the show and his family at the Circus. Since he and Phillip are 50/50 Partners, they spend plenty of time together training and bonding.





	1. The Barkeep

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is really just the set up!  
> Song inspiration - "High Hopes" - Panic At the Disco
> 
> Also, I named the amazing bartender dancer John.

"Ya sure this is going to work for ya, Mr. Barnum?" The mustached bartender fumbled briefly with keys in his apron and handed a set of two over to the tall man lingering by the window. It was an overcast day, making the rooms seem even more like tiny caverns than they already did and he was nervous to rent such accommodations out to such a successful man. There was some modest furniture that had certainly seen better days but little else in the way of comforts.

"It's perfect. Close to the new Circus tent. Everyone comes here after the shows, don't they? They're my family, John." The ringmaster's smile was sad and tight, but he offered it to the barkeep who had been keeping him mildly drunk through all of the tragedies and triumphs of his adult life. His own family, the one he had told himself he was chasing his dreams for, no longer fit in this life and it was time to remove himself. Temporarily, he had told himself and the little girls, but knew himself better than that at least.

John's accent cut through as Barnum pocketed the keys and gave the place one more look over. "Come on downstairs for a few drinks. It's early and quiet and I think ya need to tell someone your troubles, Mr. Barnum." There was a formality between them that existed mostly when John was not behind the bar and they were both eager for it to drop.

"Sure. You and a bottle of whiskey always seem to have the answers to my problems." Barnum's smile was more genuine as he followed the bartender down the narrow, creaky stairs and found his favorite stool. The bar was, as promised, entirely empty and he was grateful for only the slight hum of New York streets outside the closed door. Enough rumors were circling around about him and those days, they weren't the good kind that brought customers.

"So. Charity." With the security of the bar between them again, John was busy pouring two glasses of amber liquid into glasses not meant for shooting and held his own expectantly toward Barnum's before they were to get into it all. "What's going on there? She couldn't get past the scandal?"

Barnum sighed, nodding to the man a bit as their glasses clinked and sealed the deal of his new residence. "It's a lot of things, John. There was that, of course. Nothing happened with Jenny but.. just like with the Circus, I felt alive touring with her. You should have seen.. the crowds, the accomodations. I can understand how the poor girl got the wrong idea. I get.. seduced by these dreams I have."

Knowing full well he had more answers to give, Barnum drank soundly until half of the glass was gone and his lips felt a bit more loose. "I loved Charity. Since we were kids. I think we both had it in our heads that she helped me stay sane and alive. The thought of her, anyway. It's.. changed, now. I want the success and the show.. and she doesn't. It's come between us enough that it was time to go."

John nodded solemnly, not surprised by the confession and refilled Barnum's glass when it was offered up. "I've never seen ya so alive as when the show came together. It's a damn shame that your marriage is the cost.. but ya deserve happiness."

Barnum's gaze was a bit faraway and he didn't answer, nursing the glass much more slowly as he thought about the gravity of his decisions that day. It was a bit exciting, if he was being honest with himself, and the guilt was alarmingly minimal. After all, Charity and the girls were still living in a mansion and he'd provide for them forever.. if only he could have his little life and freedom in the city. And the show. It was time to focus.


	2. Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phineas and Phillip work on some moves for the show.

"You're staying above the bar?!" Phillip had just taken a fall into the sand from the position of his knees. It was another failed attempt at the newest move Barnum was trying to teach him on a dusty Tuesday morning, and he laid on the ground for a few moments of rest. 

"I don't know why everyone is so stunned by that notion. I don't come from much, remember? It's more space than my father ever had." The ringmaster stood above his partner, hands on hips, and cocked his head to study his position and why he had fallen. Phillip was a very fast learner, but on certain days he seemed to enjoy failing and it was one of those days. "You're not shifting the weight from your back knee to the front."

The younger man was quiet for another moment before he wound his body up from the sand of the abandoned circus ring and halfheartedly dusted off his pants. They were hardly suitable for training in such conditions, being made of fine fabric and perfect tailoring, but he only owned nice things. "I'm just saying.. you should have come to me. Since I gave you all of my earnings, I'm in a small place too. Together, we could have afforded something nice."

Barnum's lips turned upward at the corners ever so slightly at the casual offer to live together and he shrugged it off, giving Phillip a playful slap on the shoulder. "You wouldn't like that. I'd drill you on these moves every day. Besides.. it's good for me to be alone. To think. Ponder."

"At your age? God, I hope I've got my life figured out by then." Phillip's eyes were dancing with the jest behind his words and he got in position again. There was no music, which would have made it easier to find a rhythm in the spins, but all of the performers were still sleeping off their show and late night drinking. 

"I'm sure you will.." It was easy to be envious of Phillip's youth but he knew the younger man could relate to his sentiment of trying to find his place in the world. Barnum had already made so many mistakes, and somehow, he was still blessed with the brightly colored tent above his head and any entire cast of performers that trusted him. 

He wasn't naive enough to think that Phillip Carlyle had not known struggles, though. The words 'scandal' and 'drunk' had been whispered to him when he was still invited to the fancy ballet parties, and that had been part of the reason he had signed the man on in the first place. They all needed to be just a little bruised from life to want to go into the kind of show business Barnum had in mind. It was a slightly depressing thought, but getting used to it was the easiest part of his job. 

"Try again. Here." On his knees in an instant like a man half his age, Barnum bobbed his head to a beat inside his head and was in motion within seconds. His movements were precise, adjusting the weight of his muscled upper body from one knee to the next, alternating until he had moved forward about ten feet. "It looks incredibly awkward if you mess it up. Go slow."

Phillip was obviously impressed. He hadn't seen Barnum do the full knee-walk in anything but his lavish outfit, surrounded by professional dancers and the shimmering lights of the show. In muted daylight with the dust kicking up from beneath him, he looked graceful and Phillip could appreciate the core control that the move took. Clearing his throat, he positioned himself to try again as the ringmaster took to his feet and stood very close. 

His knees were already growing a bit sore from just the few attempts he had already made, but he ignored their protests and righted himself to take the first few motions forward. One or two weren't so bad but he was terrible at controlling his momentum, and rolled off to the side, through the hands of his friend that tried to catch him. "Ahhh! Today isn't the day, Phineas." 

"Doesn't seem like you're even trying very hard. I know you can dance.. Remember showing off your moves on top of the bar?"

"Which bar?"

Barnum smirked at that, and offered a hand to help Phillip up from the shifting sand again. He eyed the younger man, baffled at his lack of coordination despite being fully sober and normally rather talented. "Was that tap dancing?"

"Mm. A girl I was close with years ago showed me. Of course, no professional training.. No, no. The Carlyle's were raising a man." Phillip's voice always changed when he spoke of his parents and upbringing, though he obviously seemed chuffed knowing his current station was a fifty-fifty partner in a scandalous circus show. "I mostly do it when I'm drunk. Obviously."

Barnum brushed his palms together to remove the remaining dust and shook his head, somewhat saddened by the stifling of obvious talent. "Now I am a little sad we aren't rooming up.. I feel like I'd see more of that." Always enjoying their banter, he made sure to offer a warm smile to the younger man. "I don't have any training, you know. Nothing. I learned it all from the circus, the people here, and sheer stubborn willpower. With the talent I already know you have.. you'll be dancing circles around me in no time. Maybe we haven't been practicing enough."

"Well, with the fire and.. look, I haven't been that committed either. We can start fresh tomorrow. I'll be focused and.. stubborn, like you." It felt like a new agreement they were coming to and out of habit and good manners drilled into his personality from birth, Phillip stuck out his hand to the other man and tried to look confident about the gesture. 

"Looks like we'll be seeing a lot more of each other, Phillip." Barnum took the offered hand and shook it firmly, hanging on much longer than he would have any other man. With lingering eye contact and a nod, he let their hands fall apart and turned to pick up his jacket and hat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I adore their interactions.. can't wait to write more! Look for it, soon!


	3. It's Only Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phineas teaches Phillip a new dance for the show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title inspiration - "It's Only Dancing" - Jeremy Messersmith  
> It's a sweet, sad song

The days blurred together once the two masterminds of the circus began their training routine. In the mornings, Barnum threw on mismatched clothing to meet Phillip, eating an apple on his walk to the tent. There was a faint smell of ale and peanuts, mixed with sunshine and fresh sand that had been laid down before they arrived. Phillip was habitually late, usually rubbing his eyes to uselessly get the sleep from them. It wasn't just sleep and with their close proximity, Barnum could tell when the other man had been drinking. 

"Late night with Anne?" Barnum leaned down to adjust his shoe after his last spin had knocked it off a bit at the heel. He kept his gaze up and on Phillip, noting the odd expression his question spurred.

"Late night without Anne." The younger ringmaster answered in his scratchy, rumble of morning voice and tested the ground below with a few spins, his feet quick despite his state. "I thought we could really be something. The more she gets to know me, the more I think she'd rather be.. just friends."

There was a guarded way Phillip spoke, but it was more open than Barnum had ever heard him before without half a bottle down him. He was touched by that, and stepped back into the ring, toward his diligent student. 

"So this choreography we've been practicing for the two of you.. Is that going to be a problem? We can scrap it. I can think of something else." Only the previous morning had he showed Phillip his idea for a segment of the show, right before the finale. If he was being honest, he had been working on it for months in his head and on paper but he knew better than most men how lack of chemistry with a person could ruin everything.

"No, it's damn good and the crowd will love it. You wanted to know how to appeal to the high brows? It's just a little scandalous. Just enough."

"You know that world better than I do. We'll get your part down, then we can both show Anne. She'll pick it up fast if you can lead her."

"Show me again." Phillip challenged with a small smile, obviously eager to stop talking about the state of his relationship with the trapeze artist.

It was a bit of traditional dance mixed with a few falls of trust against one another, and quick foot moves to show off Phillip's background in tap dancing. With horns and a bit of upbeat piano, it could take on a few different moods to play to however the crowd was receiving the show that evening. "We really should get someone to play the piano for us.. but for now."

Barnum took a breath and set his mood for how he wanted Phillip to present to the audience, stepping up rather close as he put the role of Anne on his friend. He didn't expect to be surprised to see the shorter man's eyes so open and blue, looking at him with absolute trust. The moment was a bit longer than he intended before he started moving, taking a step where Phillip stepped back, circling around him twice before their hands raised to clasp together. Then apart. Barnum nodded at Phillip in warning before he bent his knee and fell off to one side, limp until the other man caught his form and spun him back into standing. 

They were pressed together, and Barnum paused, realizing their extreme height difference because of the angle of Phillip's neck just to maintain eye contact. "Now your turn."

Phillip's smirk made the ringmaster's chest feel tight and he wasn't sure if it was pride in the young man or something else. The expression boasted confidence, despite his past and obvious self-loathing, and it was a rather attractive combination. Barnum hoped such scars of life looked half as good on him. 

Without another beat skipped, Phillip stepped away and did some more foot work, head bent down to watch the steps and Barnum was stunned to see every move executed with perfection. He very nearly forgot his own part, catching his friend, and when Phillip almost fell through his arms, he started laughing. The momentum of the unbalanced fall had them both collapsing into the sand and Barnum cradled Phillip in his lap while he recovered from the ridiculous moment. 

"I'm sorry! Apparently I'm a little distracted today." The wide smile pulling at his cheeks felt foreign, as though he hadn't used those muscles in some time, but it faded when he did not hear Phillip's rich laugh joining his own. "Phillip?"

"It's fine." When Barnum looked closer at the man flailing to get off of him, he noticed the tinge of red on his cheeks. No, more than just a tinge. Phillip was beet red, and the only logical explanation that his mind shot directly to, was that the man was injured.

"Did I hurt you?" Immediately raising himself up and leaning toward the shorter man, he braced them both with a firm grip to Phillip's shoulder. "Seriously, what's wrong?" 

~~~

"I pride myself on being able to read people. Am I losing it, John?" Barnum only thumbed at his glass of whiskey, the same one he had begged the barkeep to pour him nearly thirty minutes before. He had relayed the odd interaction twice already, trying to find meaning in Phillip's sudden change of attitude before they had parted ways. 

"Then he just wanted to leave, saying he didn't feel well. It's got to do with Anne, I'm certain. I'm pressing him to do the dance and he's.. I don't know!" Finally, the ringmaster took a sip of his drink and looked desperately at the man wiping down glasses across from him. 

"Ya said he didn't seem very upset over her when ya asked him about it before.. Phillip is complicated. Ya know that. No man drinks that much without deeper problems, Mr. Barnum." Suggesting he wasn't only referring to their mutual friend, John raised his eyebrows and looked pointedly at Barnum's drink. 

Without a retort, Barnum raised his glass as if to toast his own destructive vice and sighed in frustration. With the rim against his lips, he looked toward the door and the person who burst through it. No liquid made it past his lips but he sputtered anyway, glancing at John with the look of a man who was caught red handed. 

"Phineas. Can we talk upstairs?" Phillip was out of breath, disheveled from what looked like a mad dash across town. He was still wearing his clothes from the morning, the little smudges from the sandy ring still present on the knees of his slacks and marring his white shirt. Without waiting for an answer, he walked behind the open part of the bar, snatched a bottle and left a crisp bill for John. The stairs to Barnum's apartment were only feet away and he was ascending them before the ringmaster had even stood up from his stool.

Barnum tried to mouth a question to the bartender who walked calmly to the money and placed it lovingly in a pocket of his apron. "Looks like you'll get some answers tonight, after all. Don't let him drink all of that."

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in a million years, but I hope you all enjoy it! I'll do my best to update fairly often. I'm definitely going to write another chapter tonight so probably a few before the weekend since I'm inspired!


End file.
